


take a cold shower (five times the retreat's hot water is temperamental)

by notcaycepollard



Series: retreat fics [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, The Retreat aka sex cabin, seriously thank you show writers for giving us a perfect sex cabin location
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:52:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4810427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/pseuds/notcaycepollard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What's that face," Skye says, "don't tell me-"</p><p>"I used up all the hot water," Coulson replies, and she'd believe he was sorry if he wasn't trying so hard not to smirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take a cold shower (five times the retreat's hot water is temperamental)

1.

It's not that Coulson and Skye have a  _habit_ of staying at the Retreat, or anything. It's just that the Nest isn't finished - it's only a set of blueprints in Coulson's office, actually, so it's not even really _started_ \- and when they're on Caterpillar missions, sometimes it makes sense.

Skye doesn't mind, really. Coulson always lets her take the bed, even though the lumpy old couch really is as uncomfortable as Gordon said. And it's nice to be away from the Playground occasionally. She's even mostly gotten over the whole "being hunted through the woods by SHIELD agents" thing, and it really is super peaceful with the sun setting over the lake and the fire going and whatever it is that Coulson's cooking for dinner this time. 

(She loves that he cooks for her. He rolls up his sleeves and ties an apron slung low around his hips, and it's all she can do to watch casually and not like her mouth is going dry every time she catches a glimpse of the pale skin at the inside of his elbows, or the way he sticks his tongue out while he's chopping vegetables with a knife held carefully in his robot hand. She's kind of sure that he's started putting on a show for her, actually.)

The only problem with the whole situation is that the Retreat's hot water heater is kind of janky. It's pretty old, she guesses, maybe Dr Banner skimped out on buying a good one. Nothing else in the cabin's that fancy, so that kind of makes sense. It's still  _annoying_.

"Thanks for dinner," she tells Coulson. "I'm gonna take a shower, okay?"

"Sure," he agrees, and she grabs her sweats and towel and toiletries, heads into the bathroom and cranks the dial. Maybe she'll wash her hair, she thinks, and steps under the stream. It's very relaxing. She feels very relaxed.

The water suddenly runs ice cold, and Skye can't help it; she screams, louder than she intended, jerks out of the suddenly-freezing water.

" _Skye_?" Coulson yells, slams open the door. Yeah, there's no lock on that, Skye thinks ruefully, and jumps back even though it means cold water splashing over her. "Skye? Are you okay? What's going on?" He looks alarmed, his gun in one hand. They're both a little on edge, these days.

"...Coulson," Skye says, breathless, hiding behind the shower curtain. "It's fine. I'm fine. The water just ran cold." Coulson pauses, realizes what she's doing, blushes.

"Right," he agrees. "Right. Sorry. I started washing up, I forgot that running the hot tap would... Sorry." He makes eye contact, hesitates, and she twitches the curtain. It's clammy and a little bit mildewy but at least it's opaque. Her hair's dripping shampoo suds into her eyes.

"Coulson, I..."

" _Right,_ " he agrees again, "Sorry, I'll... leave you to it." He backs out, closes the door, and Skye lets the curtain go, steps back under the hot water to rinse out her hair. They should really upgrade the cabin, she thinks, and fix the damn hot water heater, if they're going to keep using it as a base.

 

2.

Skye tried to keep her shower short, she really did, but the heater is even smaller than she thought, because it begins to run lukewarm just as she's finishing shaving her legs. She feels kind of guilty, because Coulson hasn't gotten to shower yet, and it's going to be pretty cold. On the other hand, the same thing had happened to her yesterday, so maybe they just need to start staggering their showers better, or fix the thing already.

"Morning," he greets her when she steps into the kitchen, and his voice is still husky with sleep.

"Hey, Director. Want coffee?"

"God, yes," he agrees, rubs a hand over his face. He's not a morning person, Skye has discovered. She always figured he would be, based on how perfectly, competently put together he seems to be no matter how early it is. But being off-base, sharing the Retreat one-on-one, he seems to have let down his guard, dropped a few barriers. One of them, apparently, is being properly awake early in the morning. Now Skye gets to see him all sleep-rumpled and husky and half-awake, still in his sweats and sleep t-shirt, his eyes soft and unfocused. She'd never tell him, but it's one of her favorite things.

She fills up the coffee machine, switches it on, waits for it to brew. "I could make you breakfast?" she offers, and Coulson makes a noise behind her, a kind of amused huff.

"You're being very nice to me this morning," he says, sounding a little more awake. "Did you use up all the hot water?"

"I might have," Skye admits. "But I can be nice to you for other reasons," she adds, a little defensively. "And I want pancakes, too. So, breakfast?"

After breakfast, Skye sets up her laptop at the kitchen table, expecting Coulson to go and shower. Instead, he sets a pan of water to heat on the stove, gets out a basin and his shave kit.

"Uh... What are you doing?" Skye asks, and he turns around, looking a little more awake.

"Shaving," he says, like she's slow. "I don't want to use cold water, if I can avoid it. I can handle a cold shower, but..." He runs his hand over his stubble, winces.

"...Oh," Skye replies. "Right. Of course."

"I can do it in the bathroom, if you're uncomfortable?" he offers. "I just don't want to carry a pan of hot water further than I have to."

"No, it's fine!" she says. "Totally fine. Go ahead." 

She could go to the bedroom, or shift to the couch, of course, but that would imply there was something weird about the situation, and there's not, it _is_ totally fine. She tries to keep her eyes on her laptop screen, as Coulson lathers his cheeks and chin, drags his razor across his skin with careful, long strokes, but it's  _hard_ , harder than she thought it would be. He's got a little pocket mirror, and he's frowning in concentration, tilting his head to shave his jaw. She can't help it. She watches. It's  _delicious_.

He finishes quicker than she'd like, rinses his razor and his face, runs his fingers across his chin to search for any spots he's missed. Turns to her and smiles warm and teasing.

"Enjoy the show?" he asks, and Skye's cheeks traitorously burn pink before she can even deny what she was doing.

"How-"

"The thing about mirrors," he says, "is that they have reflections."

"Oh," she squeaks. "Right. I knew that." She jumps up to top up her coffee mug, hoping that'll cover her embarrassment, and Coulson just smirks, pours out the basin of water.

"How'd I do?" he asks. "An alright job?" Skye turns around, holds her mug up to her mouth, scrutinizes his face thoughtfully.

"Yeah," she agrees, presses two fingers lightly to his jaw so he tilts his head again. She traces her fingertips up to the delicate spot of skin behind his jaw, just below his ear, and Coulson shivers, closes his eyes. "Shaving cream," she says, "you missed a patch," and wipes it on his nose, dissolves into laughter.

 

3.

Even when they're away from the Playground and Skye can't join May for morning tai chi, she still gets up early, runs through it by herself. Her favorite spot is at the edge of the lake, the wind ruffling her hair. She practices a modified version of it, out here, something that uses her vibration powers to tap into the trees and the water and the feeling of the land. It settles her. She's going to miss this place, when the Nest is finished. Maybe they can still visit occasionally.

Coulson steps outside, when she's around halfway through her morning routine, and he looks as if he's about to go for a run - he's in a t-shirt and shorts, and if she weren't so centered in what she was doing, she'd be distracted.

She  _is_ distracted when he gets back, his t-shirt darkened with sweat, a fine sheen glistening across his face and neck. She lets her gaze linger as he stretches out his quads, drinks some water.

"Work out harder than usual, Director?" she teases, and he grins, pulls his shirt off and uses it to wipe off his face. That's not fair, Skye thinks, that's  _so_ not fair, his  _shoulders_ , fucking hell. She knew Coulson was built, she's seen him fighting enough to pick up on that, but his shoulders and chest are way more impressive than even she realized they would be. She tries not to stare.

He throws his shirt at her, uses the distraction to announce smugly, "I call dibs on the shower," and-

" _Hey_ ," she shouts, "not fair, Director," but he's laughing at her, ducking inside, and he's definitely going to get there first.

When he gets out, he's in jeans and buttoning up a light chambray shirt, and he looks a bit apologetic.

"What's that face," she says, "don't tell me-"

"I used up all the hot water," he replies, and she'd believe he was sorry if he wasn't trying so hard not to smirk.

"Aw come  _on_ ," Skye complains, and he shrugs.

"You'll just have to take a cold shower," he tells her, raises an eyebrow in a frankly suggestive way, and Jesus Christ, is the Director  _flirting_ with her? He is. He so is. More than usual.

Skye knows how to handle this.

She goes into the bedroom, changes out of her workout clothes, extremely glad she packed that bikini on the off-chance she might get a chance to lay out by the lake. Hey, you never know, even when you're a secret superhero.

"What..." Coulson says faintly, when she marches back out in a bikini, carrying her towel.

"I'm not gonna take a cold shower when I could swim in a perfectly decent lake," she says. "Want to join me?"

"I'm really good, thanks," he replies, sipping his mug of coffee and looking dubiously out over the lake. "I know it's June, but it still looks pretty cold to me." Skye shrugs.

"Your loss," she tells him, drops her towel next to him and runs down to the water, throws herself in before she can chicken out. He's right. It's  _really cold_. She comes up sputtering, gasping at the shock, and she can see Coulson laughing from where he's settled down in a deck chair with a mission report. She ducks under again, strikes out into the middle of the lake, because now that she's in, she might as well have a proper swim. It's not so bad once you get used to it, she thinks.

When she gets out, she's suddenly aware that Coulson is watching her, remembers that scene with the 60s Bond girl - who was it, she thinks, Ursula Andress? - and puts a little more swing into her hips as she walks back to the cabin. She steps just a little too close to Coulson, reaches for her towel, and he yelps.

"Ugh, Skye, you're dripping freezing lake water all over me," he complains, and she shrugs again, dries herself off and spreads the towel out on the deck chair next to his, stretches out.

"What are you doing," he asks flatly, sliding down his sunglasses to look at her.

"Warming up," she says, "you were right, lake's pretty cold. And  _someone_ used all the hot water, so my only option is to get some sun until I'm not freezing."

"You could  _put some clothes on_ ," he suggests, and Skye gives him the same arched eyebrow he'd given her earlier.

"Is it bothering you?" she asks, stretching out a little more. "Distracting you?"

"Maybe I'm just worried you'll get sunburned," he parries, drags his gaze down her body just a little too slowly to be strictly professional. Skye's impressed he's able to be so cool about it. She'd be blushing for sure. 

" _Please_. I don't burn. But you could lend me your shirt, if you're that worried."

"My shirt. My actual shirt. The shirt I am wearing."

"Yeah? I figure you probably have an undershirt on."

"Well, you're not wrong," Coulson sighs, "just the most cheeky and unprofessional. You realize you're literally asking the Director of SHIELD for the shirt off his back."

"You'd give it to me, though, right, sir?" Coulson sighs again, sets down his mission report, unbuttons his shirt in a very resigned way. Skye's not  _altogether_ sure that this was such a great idea, because she's sitting there in nothing but a scrap of fabric, watching Coulson take off his shirt. Or maybe it's the  _best_ idea.

When she slides it on, the fabric is still warm from his body, and it smells like his cologne. She pushes the sleeves up, snuggles into it, smiles to herself, because Coulson  _did_ just give her the shirt off his back, and that's maybe worth a cold morning swim.

 

4.

"This weather is the worst," Skye grumbles, and Coulson just nods in agreement. They're both drenched through and freezing, despite the SUV heater on full, and to get indoors they have to go through an absolute downpour. Skye misses the Playground. At least it's underground.

"Come on," he says, and they make the dash for it, the rain so heavy Skye feels blinded by it. They get inside, slam the door, and she shakes her wet hair out of her eyes, rubs her hands up and down her arms in a vain attempt to warm herself up.

"So, winters up here, not recommended," she says, trying for levity, and a crack of lightning is followed by a huge rumble of thunder. "Hey, we, uh, don't have to worry about the storm knocking out our power, right?"

"No, the generator should be fi-" Coulson says, and there's another flash of lightning, a loud noise from outside, and the lights go out. "Uh oh."

"Jinxed it," she agrees. "I hesitate to ask about the perimeter fence, now."

"That's powered separately. I'm pretty sure it's safe," Coulson says, and they both pause, clearly waiting for another ominous noise. When there's nothing but the sound of the rain, they relax a little.

"Damn," Skye grumps. "I was really looking forward to a hot shower. I swear I've got like half a forest worth of dirt all over me, from that trek back to the SUV."

"Yeah," Coulson agrees. "Let me find some candles, and we'll start a fire, at least."

With the fire on and a few candles casting flickering light around the living room, it's not so bad, and Skye feels a little warmer, although still unpleasantly wet and dirty. She grabs a washcloth, rinses it under the kitchen tap and wipes off her face, wincing at how cold the water is. Coulson makes a satisfied noise, and she pokes her head out of the bathroom to see what he's discovered. He's holding a big old copper tub and a pan that looks as if it's designed to be slung across the fire, and Skye raises her eyebrows.

"Are you planning what I think you're planning?"

"Well, we still have running water, so if you want a bath..." he says, and she sighs, because a hot bath sounds amazing right now.

It takes a while for the water to heat up, and now that Skye knows she's got the chance to get properly warm and clean, she takes a candle into the bathroom and spends some time washing off as much dirt as she can, even shampooing her hair out in the sink so that the bathwater won't get filthy immediately. She's _freezing_ by the time she finishes, her teeth chattering, and when Coulson knocks on the door to tell her the water's hot, she sighs again in relief. 

"I'll leave you to it," Coulson says, and she frowns.

"Seriously? With the fire on, it's the only room that's actually warm, Director, don't be stupid."

"Well, I've got to get this dirt off me too, so I'll go and do that, at least," he says, goes into the bathroom, and Skye strips off, climbs into the copper tub, sinks down into the hot water. It's  _blissful_. She ducks under, lets her hair float loose in the water for a moment, then settles back, her knees like islands above the water.

Coulson clears his throat when he comes back in, doesn't look directly at her as he goes to stand by the fire.

"Director," she says, "it's fine, you don't have to preserve my modesty or anything here." He laughs, glances over.

"You look a lot warmer," he says, "is it cosy?"

" _So_ cosy," she agrees. "We can refill it after? If you want?"

"I'll be fine," he evades, and she rolls her eyes.

"You're missing out, but whatever. Want to wash my back?"

"Sure," Coulson says, kneels by the tub and gently rubs the soap up her spine and shoulders, rinses it off with water. She leans back into his hand, closes her eyes, lets him smooth conditioner into her hair. He slides his hand down to the back of her neck, gently massages the muscles over her shoulders, and she groans in pleasure. 

"That feels so good," she tells him drowsily, "seriously, you're missing out if you don't take a bath."

"There's not room in there for the both of us," he says, and Skye smirks.

"Would you join me, if there was?"

"Yes," Coulson says, simply, and Skye arches her head back to look at him, because this is _new_. They've been flirting for a long time, she thinks, but she kind of wondered whether Coulson would ever let it go anywhere. He's gazing at her naked body with desire, with longing, and Skye suddenly feels a whole lot warmer.

"I know where there  _is_ room for the both of us," she suggests. "But if you think you're coming to bed with me without bathing first..."

"You'd better get out then," Coulson agrees, "so I can do that. Quickly." Skye ducks under to rinse the conditioner, stands up, squeezes the excess water from her hair. Coulson hands her a towel, staring unashamedly at her, and she wraps it around herself just slowly enough to give him a good view.

"The water's still pretty hot," she says, "and clean."

"Point taken," Coulson says, shucks off his shirt and trousers, and Skye has a sudden moment of realization that they're about to be in the same  _room_ , in the same space,  _naked_ , and they haven't even kissed, yet. She has to fix this, like, right now.

She climbs out of the bath to stand in front of him, grabs his face and pulls him down into a kiss. His lips are cold against hers; she feels flush with heat. "Get in the bath," she murmurs, and he pulls off his underwear, steps in and sits down. Skye kneels down next to the tub, leans in for another kiss, runs her hands down the length of his body in the hot water. His cock is hard and thick, and when she wraps her hand around it, Coulson groans, throws his head back, pulls her towel open to cup her breast. 

"Oh  _God,_ Skye," he says, his voice huskier than she's ever heard it. She tightens her grip, leans into him a little more, and he rubs his thumb across her nipple, smiling at the way she moans. 

They don't even make it to the bed. Skye keeps touching Coulson until he's gasping, biting at her lip and her throat and her shoulder, and then he pulls her back into the tub to sit straddled in his lap. Turns out there's _totally_ room for the two of them. They get bathwater all over the floor. 

 

5.

The Nest is finally almost ready, which Skye knows means they won't have to use the Retreat anymore, and she's oddly sad about that. Although it's technically a base anyone in SHIELD can use, it kind of feels like something that belongs to her and Coulson, now. It feels a bit like their secret home. 

It certainly feels more like home now that Coulson never sleeps on the lumpy old couch, Skye thinks as she luxuriates in a slow, quiet wake up. No bunks, no annoying agents like Hunter giving her knowing looks when she comes out of Coulson's room in the morning, nothing but dim grey light and the warm cosiness of a bed with Coulson spooned up against her back and his arms wrapped around her. 

She rolls over toward him, tucks her head against his shoulder, marches two fingers teasingly down his ribs. 

"Mmmphhfff..." he complains sleepily, and she tiptoes her fingers further down over his hip, brushes a kiss up against his throat. "Skye," he mumbles again, into her hair. "Time is it?" 

"Around eight?" she guesses. "We probably need to get back pretty soon. Director of SHIELD, and all. And I've got that secret organization we're totally not supposed to be organizing." 

"Hmmmm," Coulson agrees, presses his face into her hair and tightens his embrace. "Definitely not eight, though. Must be around six. Time for more sleep." Skye laughs, wriggles out of his grip and leans over him to grab his watch from the bedside table. 

"It's... eight-thirty," she announces, squinting at the watch face, and Coulson grumbles wordlessly, takes his watch from her and fastens it onto his wrist without opening his eyes. He runs his hand up the plane of her back, blinks slowly up at her, and she smiles sunnily at him. It turns out Coulson not being a morning person is even dreamier when she gets to  _wake up_ next to him. 

"Good morning," he gets out eventually, still stroking her back, and she smiles wider, appreciating the clear blue-gray of his eyes. "I must admit, I do enjoy waking up with you draped over me like this." 

"I was thinking about another way to wake you up, actually," Skye says teasingly, and presses her palm flat against his stomach, slides her hand lower until she's got his cock in her hand. Coulson groans loudly. 

"Now I really wish I'd woken up earlier, which is not something I would usually say, because I have a meeting with the Council at eleven."

"Which means you're already late," Skye realizes out loud. She doesn't move her hand. 

"Yeah," Coulson agrees ruefully, tilts his hips up into her touch. "That - oh god - is not what I need to be doing right now." 

"I'm pretty sure I'm  _exactly_ what you need to be doing right now," Skye argues, sits up and climbs to sit straddled across his hips, grinding down against his cock. "You could just, you know, postpone the meeting. Because you were busy. Getting busy." 

" _Skye,_ " Coulson says, with heroic willpower, and she sighs. 

"Okay, but we're sharing the shower."

"This isn't what I thought you meant by sharing the shower," Coulson says against her neck ten minutes later. He's got her up against the wall, her legs wrapped around him, and he's buried deep inside her. She arches against him, water cascading over both their bodies, and he thrusts harder, holds her up with one hand so he can press fingers against her clit. 

"No, but what a great idea," Skye gets out, gasping. She can feel her legs beginning to shake. "Fuck, Phil, that's, right there, don't you dare _oh god Jesus fuck that's cold._ " 

"I did warn you," Coulson laughs, pushing off the shower dial with his elbow. He's still rubbing her clit, fucking into her at the perfect angle, and Skye can feel her orgasm building again despite the sudden shock of cold water. "This is not a good sex shower."

"I don't care," Skye moans, tangles her hand up in his hair and pulls his mouth up to hers. She comes swearing, crying out, and Coulson follows a few seconds later, his fingers digging so hard into her hip that she knows she'll have a bruise. 

"Can we get a jacuzzi for the Nest," she asks hopefully when she's come down off the high and they're getting dressed, and Coulson laughs. 

"No room for hot tubs in the budget. But I'm thinking we could probably get a new water heater, at least."

"For the Nest?" Skye asks, confused, as she towels her hair dry. Coulson gives her naked body an appreciative glance. 

"I was thinking for here," he says, very casual. "Director of SHIELD and head of that totally secret organization we're not supposed to be organizing? We need a vacation spot, right?" 

Yeah, Skye thinks. Yeah, they really do. One with better hot water, for sure. 

**Author's Note:**

> God bless the Retreat. #sex cabin forever. 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr, if you want: notcaycepollard.tumblr.com


End file.
